As if I knew why I must drift away,
My love is weighed and measured by your grief.
Behind the final door there waits relief—
Or so you still so desperately say;
To make it true you'll haunt me every day,
Accuse and rail that I've become a thief
While polishing the edges of belief,
As if you hadn't fashioned it from clay.
Enrich our time with abject, pale despair,
And wonder why I run from your embrace—
Of you there yet remains a whispered trace,
To tug at heartstrings I had left behind
Like empty spider's webs within my mind,
But see, my love: I'm waiting for you there.

Author's Notes:

Wishing that the ones I love would try some other method besides guilt when they want me to be less distant.

Thank you for having given these eyes and this heart such a delightfully written Sonnet to read! Though the message, of course, does carry a sad truth that shouldn't be a truth at all. When your lovers then the only thing which aught to matter is love and friendship... Lovers should never blame their lovers for -being distant- When someone dies the love for that someone still go's on, they are on a distance but they keep on loving us as we do them. Bless you.